


Cyrus: Journal

by ashdrabbles



Category: Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game), Original Work
Genre: Groomston Hill, Indrik the Half-Dragon, Nobea the Blight, Uncle Jorgen, Winsu-Gran, and other exciting milestones, the unicorn - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-31
Updated: 2020-12-31
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:48:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 851
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28451910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ashdrabbles/pseuds/ashdrabbles
Summary: A collection of journal entries about the party's endeavors in Lamenhal and Dartmoor.





	Cyrus: Journal

_7/21 —_

Today, we traveled through Groomston Hill and climbed the steps to the top of the glass tower.

It was beautiful; the moon was rising and the stars were just beginning to shine. I found myself searching the sky for constellations and omens, just as Cyrilla taught me.

I miss her terribly.

* * *

_7/30 —_

For the first time in a long time, it seems the clouds have lifted.

Currently, we are staying in Lamenhal, taking residence at an inn by the name of The Unicorn. I find the name and its owner unbearable, but I cannot find reason to complain. Lodging fit for a nobleman.

It is the first time since Balagos’ attack that I have seen everyone relax. Amelie is smiling once again, Max and Consolantia are back to their usual antics, and Baelor has returned to making jokes at my expense. Irksome, but a relief all the same.

Yet, I fear that relief is a fleeting feeling. Tomorrow, we will speak to Jorgen and reveal our identities. A risky move, but I believe it to be the correct one. We are the royal family — a life on the run is ill-suited for us. It is our duty to Belania to retake the throne and face these dragons head on.

Also, something curious happened — when we arrived in the noble district of Lamenhal, Ryli deceived the guards to get us inside. It was brief and harmless, but I found myself surprised by how easily the lie came to her. The more I see of her, the more I wonder what secrets she holds.

* * *

_7/32 —_

I am beginning to fear that I may be a danger to my family.

This morning, we awoke from a nightmare in which Nobea's minions hunted us. I was designated “The Pawn.” To say I am unsettled by this is an understatement.

I have turned countless theories over in my head, but I can deny it no longer — it must mean Nobea knows of the deal I've made to become a warlock. There is no other explanation.

To my knowledge, the only one who knows of my pact is the devil himself. Either Nobea is in league with Winsu-Gran, or she is the one who put me on this wretched path all those years ago. She placed the cursed journal in the royal library and simply bided her time until someone was foolish enough to look inside.

If this is true, then it must be I who was the traitor. I allowed the enemy into our castle.

In my desperate attempt to serve the kingdom, I've doomed it.

But how?? I need to understand what happened so that I may prevent it from happening again.

I have devised a plan to contact the demon. It will either garner more information, or I will become strong enough to unweave whatever tangled mess I have made. Hopefully both.

I only pray that I am not too late.

* * *

_7/34 —_

We have retaken Dartmoor and executed the half-dragon Indrik.

Determining that a man should die is an unpleasant thing. Baelor bore the burden with a calm decisiveness both impressive and chilling. For the first time, I see how my older brother and I are alike.

Indrik was a wretched man fueled by a thirst for power and little else. He killed his own daughter and boasted about his lack of guilt. The world is surely a better place with him gone — and yet, his death has left a tension in the air.

When the sword fell, Consolantia looked as though we had betrayed her.

Amelie showed no hesitation to kill a man who threatened her family.

And Max… he boasts only about war and glory, caring little for the lives that it costs.

Ryli must see us as tyrants. I can’t say that I blame her.

If only Cyrilla were here. She would know the right things to say to them.

Indrik somehow knew of my warlock pact. He mocked me, saying that he and I were the same — words that burned in my blood and left a bitter taste in my mouth. But as much as I am loath to admit it, perhaps he was right. Perhaps we are both driven by a lust for power.

But that is where the similarities end. He sought the power to end lives. I seek to protect them.

How did he know about me? I need to find answers.

* * *

_7/35 —_

My hand trembles as I stare at these blank pages. There is so much to say, and yet words fail me.

I spoke to the demon.

How terrifying it is to stand before something you know will be your end.

Yet, in that moment, as I was twisting the hands of my fate, I felt immortal.

As if I was seizing my destiny — outsmarting the Gods themselves!

Combined with the magic the devil has given me, this feeling is intoxicating.

I now understand how lesser men would lose themselves to it.

I do not intend to let myself slip.

I will not let these sacrifices be in vain.


End file.
